Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Was this my imagination? It was so hard not to flirt with him. That had been the case from the moment I’d met the guy.
Nicholas held my hand as we entered the house. I sensed Tate’s presence behind me right before I felt his hand at the small of my back, guiding me inside. It sent a zap of electricity through my starving body.
Tate’s German shepherd immediately ran to greet us, her paws scratching against the floor.
“Calm down,” Tate said as he grabbed her by the leash. “Nicholas, this is Khloe.”
Nicholas reached his little hand out to pet the big dog, who calmed down fairly quickly. Tate smiled as he looked on, still holding Khloe’s leash.
After only a few minutes, Khloe seemed used to us being here. She also listened very well to Tate’s commands.
“You hungry, little guy?” he asked our boy.
Nicholas nodded eagerly. He was back to his normal, vibrant self now that he’d had a little time out of the car.
Tate waved us farther into the house. “Let’s head to the kitchen, then.”
My eyes widened when I got a look at the kitchen counter. Tate had laid out dozens of snacks, everything from Cheez-Its to Teddy Grahams to Oreos.
“Oh my God.” I laughed. “Did you rob the snack aisle?”
“Hit the market while you were on the road. I never asked you what he likes and didn’t want to bother you while you were driving, so I just got a little of everything. I know it’s a lot of sugar. But I wanted to impress him the first time. I’ll tone it down, eventually.”
“Something tells me you won’t. That’s always been your thing.” I winked.
He returned a flirtatious grin.
Yeah. It can’t be my imagination.
Tate prepared a plate of snacks for Nicholas and sat across from him at the table, watching him eat like it was a spectator sport. And Nicholas was in his glory as the dog sat at the base of his chair, waiting for the crumbs that would inevitably fall.
When Tate finally pulled his gaze from Nicholas, he turned to me. “What can I get you?”
“Got anything to drink besides juice boxes?”
“I have water, seltzer…wine. Although, I doubt you want to drink at three in the afternoon.”
“Look at you offering me alcohol.”
“Well, you are legal now.”
“Seltzer sounds great, actually.”
He stood. “I have mandarin orange, lime, strawberry, or grapefruit.”
“True to form, you just get them all, huh?” I shrugged. “Surprise me.”
Tate walked over to the fridge, opened a can, and poured it into a glass. He handed it to me, and when I sipped, I tasted lime.
“Thank you,” I said, fighting the urge to burp after drinking the carbonated beverage too fast.
“Nicholas, what do you want to do after you eat?” Tate asked. “Play on the swings?”
My boy’s face turned red. He was back to acting shy again for some reason.
I smiled at Nicholas. “I know one thing he’d love to do.”
“What’s that?” Tate turned to me, his eyes eager.
“I see you have a big truck out there. One of his favorite things is to sit in the driver’s seat and pretend to drive. He does it with my dad’s truck all the time.”
Tate grinned as he turned to Nicholas. “I used to love that, too, when I was your age. Someday I can teach you how to really drive one.”
Nicholas smiled. That last part was profound. Tate plans to be here for all of Nicholas’s milestones.
I wished I could tell Nicholas right now that Tate was his dad. But that would have to wait. The shift from thinking my son would never know his father to knowing he’d always have him around made my heart full, despite what we’d have to endure for Tate to love him openly.
After Nicholas finished his snacks, we went out front where Tate had his gray truck in the driveway. It was a dark, smoky color that suited him well. He let Nicholas sit in the driver’s seat and play with the steering wheel and all of the buttons. Nicholas even hit the horn a few too many times, and one of the neighbors walked out to make sure everything was okay. The man’s rigid expression softened when he got a look at Nicholas bopping around in the seat. The guy waved and promptly went back inside.
After Nicholas had his fill of the truck, we went around to the backyard. Tate pushed him on the swings until Nicholas tired of it. He eventually wandered off to play in the sandbox while Tate and I stood on the grass a few feet away.
“Was the sandbox here, too?” I asked.
“No.” Tate shook his head. “I bought the stuff to build it and came out earlier this week to set it up.”
“That was really thoughtful of you.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least I can do. I have a lot of catching up.”